


We're Totally in a Bad Rom-Com

by deadgranger



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Community: FFT, Community: HPFT, F/M, Fluff, Modern AU, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Smut, there's only one bed, you guys it's a classic mutual pining + one bed fic what more could you want, you know how this shit goes folks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:08:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23628205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadgranger/pseuds/deadgranger
Summary: Clarke and Bellamy attend a conference at the behest of their boss, indra. What they didn't realize was how much meddling she did beforehand, and what it would mean for them to have to face their feelings in such close quarters.Written for Cheeky-TorahLex's "There's Only One Bed" Challenge and down-in-flames's "Modern AU" Challenge!
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 6
Kudos: 131





	We're Totally in a Bad Rom-Com

**Author's Note:**

> Yep this is....this is it. Enjoy this, whatever the hell this turned into!

“Take Exit 308A in a quarter mile,” the GPS voice said through the car’s sound system.

Bellamy leaned forward to check his side mirror before merging into the right lane to take the exit ramp. Clarke tapped away on her phone in the passenger seat, oblivious to their imminent arrival to their hotel for the next week.

She only looked up from her emails when Bellamy put the car in park. “Oh, are we here already then?”

Bellamy sighed and replied, “Yep, and I’m not carrying that ridiculously overpacked suitcase of yours inside either, so let’s get a move on, it’s starting to rain and I know how much you hate the rain.”

“Ugh, fine, Bellamy. And for the record, it’s not overpacked, it’s packed for every occasion that this dumb conference might have,” she snapped back, hauling the suitcase out of his trunk more easily than either had expected.

He rolled his eyes in lieu of responding to that, clicking up the handle of his suitcase and beginning the walk inside. Clarke fell into step beside him, her heeled boots clicking loudly on the pavement.

“Indra did book us separate rooms, right? God knows I could do without hearing you snore like you did when we had that team building campout in the mountains two years ago,” Clarke said.

The automatic sliding doors opened for them, and both of them were stunned into momentary silence as they received the full effect of the rather swanky lobby. Clarke, being more accustomed to such sights from when her mother was traveling the country for her medical practice and took her along on some of the trips, recovered first and stepped over to the front desk.

“Hello, are you here for the New Frontiers Expansion Conference or just for a visit to Sanctum City?” the front desk agent, Josephine, asked.

“We’re both here for the conference. Our boss should have booked two single rooms, under Clarke Griffin and Bellamy Blake,” Clarke responded, smiling politely as Bellamy meandered up next to her.

Josephine clicked through a few things on her computer, eyebrows creasing as she continued her clicking. “One moment, please,” she said before disappearing into the back room.

“I swear to God if Indra didn’t book rooms for us, she’s paying for our next team building event,” Clarke muttered under her breath, crossing her arms over her chest impatiently.

“Chill out, it’s probably just a computer system issue with there being so many people here for this conference. I’d bet money on Indra having booked our rooms too, by the way,” Bellamy quietly replied. “She’s not one to forget something as important as that.”

Clarke just huffed and tapped her foot impatiently on the tile floor. Bellamy held his hands loosely in the front pockets of his slacks, the picture of patience. Josephine returned to the desk a couple of minutes later, clearly making an effort to keep her face neutral.

“Apologies for the delay, I had to check with my manager to see if there was a glitch in the system,” she apologized profusely, as she started typing again. “You said the reservations would be under Griffin and Blake, correct?”

“Yep,” Clarke popped the ‘p’ with more force than necessary, earning her a stern glare from Bellamy.

“Well, we do have reservations for the both of you,” Josephine began.

“But?” Bellamy interjected.

“But it appears it is for a single room, not two rooms,” Josephine finished, face inscrutable.

Bellamy shrugged and said, “That’s fine with us, we don’t mind having to share a hotel room, right Clarke?”

Clarke’s eyes bugged out before she composed herself and gave the front desk agent a polite smile. “It’s no problem at all,” she said, sickly sweet.

Josephine nodded and clicked through a few more things on the computer. “All right, you are in room 403. Breakfast is available in the dining area from six a.m. to ten a.m., but the conference will have their own catering throughout the day. Checkout is at noon on your last day here. Enjoy your stay!”

She handed Bellamy the envelope with their room keys, and with a nod of thanks, he grabbed his suitcase and started the walk towards the elevators. Clarke thanked the front desk agent and hurried to catch up with Bellamy’s long stride. The ride in the elevator was silent except for the tapping noise Clarke’s nails made against her phone as she sent out yet another email. When they reached the fourth floor, Bellamy waved Clarke out of the elevator first, ever the gentleman.

Bellamy handed her one of the room keys to open the door to their room. He had just closed the door behind him when Clarke turned on the light and his heart dove right into his stomach.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Clarke deadpanned.

Her short stature let Bellamy see right over her head, directly at what he thought was going to be two queen beds but was instead one giant king-sized bed.

“Fuck,” he muttered.

Clarke made to reach past Bellamy and open the door. Bellamy grabbed her arm and asked, “Where are you going, Clarke?”

“To talk to the desk lady and get another room!”

“Why?”

“Because this is ridiculous!”

“We’ve slept in the same vicinity before, Clarke.”

“In separate tents! Outside!”

“Oh come on, you’re making a big deal out of nothing. We can make this work, you don’t have to throw such a hissy fit, Clarke!”

“It’s improper for us to share a room like this, Bellamy!”

“Oh, _improper_ , really now, Princess?”

Clarke’s mouth gaped open at his petulant nickname for her, opening and closing until she finally gave up on finding a retort and closed her mouth for good.

“That’s what I thought. Besides, I’m sure Indra was just trying to save some money, this is not a cheap hotel.”

“Whatever, Bellamy,” Clarke huffed.

She rolled her suitcase to the far side of the room next to the window and began unpacking her toiletries, pretending like Bellamy wasn’t even there. He shook his head and put his suitcase against the bathroom wall, merely unzipping it and taking out his other pair of shoes and leaving everything else in it, choosing instead to pull his laptop from his carrier bag and catch up on work stuff.

They did their own things in near silence for the next two hours, Bellamy’s back having eventually protested from slouching against the side of the bed, causing him to be seated against the headboard, glasses on and laptop resting on his thighs. Clarke had dumped even more toiletries than he could have possibly imagined into the bathroom, he only hoped she’d left him a six inch square for his toothbrush and razor on the counter. Finally her flurrying around was over, and she sat down in the desk chair, scrolling on her phone. Her stomach growled loudly, and Clarke blushed in embarrassment at the noise.

“You hungry, Clarke?” Bellamy asked, not looking up from the slides he was editing.

“No, I’ll order room service later,” she answered, tapping more furiously on her phone.

He saved his presentation and closed his laptop firmly. “Come on, I’m familiar with the area. I’m sure we can find a nice spot to grab some dinner.”

“Fine, but you’re buying if you’re finding it,” Clarke joked, easing some of the tension in the room.

“Whatever, Griffin,” Bellamy replied as he slid to the edge of the bed, reaching for his shoes.

Clarke took a few things out of her purse and reapplied her lipstick in the mirror. She turned around as she saw Bellamy rise from tying his shoes, and cocked her head at him. “Do you want to have the room key or should I?”

He frowned at her and held the envelope up, showing both keys. “Well there are two of them, Clarke, I figured we should each have one. Also, it sounds like it’s still raining out, so you should probably grab that umbrella of yours. Are you a smarty pants like you claim to be or not?”

She rolled her eyes at him and grabbed a key from the envelope, shoving it into her purse. Rain jacket in hand, she opened the door to their hotel room, Bellamy following close behind.

A quick dinner turned into a two hour meal with multiple rounds of drinks and a shared dessert, partially due to the rain, but mostly due to neither of them realizing how long they’d been at the restaurant for. When the rain finally desisted, Bellamy was more than happy to pay for both of their meals, leaving the waiter a generous tip.

They walked back the five blocks to the hotel on the nearly empty streets, talking about nothing of substance the whole time. The lights glistening on the wet roads made for perfect lighting for photos according to Clarke, and Bellamy begrudgingly let her take some portrait shots of him by a lamppost.

“Perfect! Now you can finally update your old ass profile photo on social media,” Clarke laughed, pulling up the photos she’d taken of him.

Bellamy was impressed at her skills, but he wasn’t going to admit that to her. “Thanks Clarke, those are really good. Want me to take a couple for you too?”

Clarke clicked her tongue before handing him her phone and going to stand by the lamppost. He took what felt like at least thirty photos with her in at least five different poses and hoped that she would like at least one of them.

“Ah, Bellamy Blake, I knew you had a photographer in you somewhere!” Clarke exclaimed when she got her phone back to scroll through her photos. “Come on, let’s take a couple selfies just to make Indra happy, hm?”

He rolled his eyes and bent his knees to bring him closer to eye level with her. Clarke’s finger tapped a few times as they smiled at the camera. She leaned into him a few seconds longer than necessary after dropping her phone to her side, and he definitely didn’t count each of them until she stepped away. They resumed their walk back to the hotel, chatting away with goofy smiles on their faces.

As they entered the hotel lobby, Bellamy tilted his head towards the bar as an invitation, but Clarke shook her head. They walked to the elevator across the lobby, Bellamy extremely aware of the swishing of their raincoats as their arms brushed. The elevator ride up to their room was pleasantly quiet, both of them still riding the wave of the looseness from the alcohol and the rain.

Bellamy unlocked the door and the dopey grin on his face slowly dropped and he immediately retreated into his shell as he followed Clarke into the room, his eyes boring a hole into the single bed. He realized he didn’t know what the fuck was going on with Clarke and didn’t want to get into it with her tonight. The long drive and the rain and the too many drinks at dinner and the touchiness with Clarke was really fucking with his head now. She stumbled in her heels to the desk chair, falling drunkenly into it. With deftness belied by the amount of wine she’d drank at dinner, her heels were unstrapped and tossed by her luggage before Bellamy had even thought about untying his shoes.

Clarke whirled into the bathroom with a pile of clothes in her arms, closing the door firmly behind her. Bellamy shook his head to clear it, of both the treacherous thoughts and the residual effects of the alcohol. He had already changed into his pajamas -- sweatpants and a t-shirt, he was never more grateful for his past self -- when Clarke came out of the bathroom dressed similarly to him, but with the addition of an old college sweatshirt.

“Arkadia University, huh?” Bellamy asked, nodding at the logo on her sweatshirt. “Bet that cost your parents a pretty penny.”

“I had scholarships and paid the rest of it on my own, actually, so it really just cost me far too many night shifts bartending at The Drop Ship and definitely way too many shitfacedddudes trying to pick me up for a lifetime. Just because my parents may be rich doesn’t mean I got or used any of that wealth,” Clarke replied darkly, crossing her arms over her chest as she resumed her seat in the desk chair.

Bellamy held his hands up defensively. “You’re self-made, I get it, I get it. I’m curious though, what did you major in then, because I feel like what you do right now at TonDC isn’t even close to what you did in college.”

Clarke rolled her eyes. “God, why are you so nosy when you’re drunk? I double majored in political science and biochemistry pre-med with an art minor. And yes, before you ask _another_ question, I did graduate in four years and yes I was _that_ student on the Dean’s List every semester.”

He whistled. “Wow, that’s pretty amazing, Clarke.”

A blush tinted her cheeks. “Thanks, Bellamy. I know it’s not really related to what I do at TonDC with the marketing aspect but it’s honestly a job I love more than I thought I would. It’s really great getting to interact with so many different clients and discussing the ideas they have for the designs they want and whatever...oh my god, please don’t tell Indra how much I said I loved my job or I’ll never hear the end of it from her.”

“Your secret’s safe with me, Princess,” Bellamy said, smiling broadly at her.

“Thanks,” she smiled back.

After a few moments of comfortable silence where he almost dozed off on top of the bed, Clarke’s voice pierced the haze of pre-sleep. “What about you? Where’d you go to college?”

He sat up on the bed and gave her a withering look. “Clarke, it is almost midnight, I am tired, and I don’t want to be hungover for the conference opening breakfast tomorrow which is at 8 a.m. in case you forgot, so I am going to sleep.”

“You’re no fun, making me spill and you remaining an enigma. Come on, even’s even and then you can go to bed.”

“Hmmm, no thanks, I think I’ll stay an enigma, that’s more fun for me,” Bellamy made a big show of getting underneath the covers and building a wall of the extra pillows in the middle of the bed, then turned off his lamp and closed his eyes.

He heard Clarke huff and tap on her phone for a while, until sleep began overtaking him for real. The sound of Clarke plugging her phone in and tiptoeing as quietly as she could while tipsy startled him, but he remained motionless as she clumsily crawled into the bed on her side of the wall of extra pillows. Thankfully she didn’t take too long to settle, and before he knew it, Bellamy was peacefully asleep.

~*~*~*~

Bellamy’s alarm went off at six-thirty the next morning. He groped for his phone in the dark to snooze it for fifteen minutes and set it back down. Readjusting the blankets around himself, he realized the wall had been broken at some point in the night, and Clarke now had a hand lingering near his back and a foot flat against his calves. Resolving to deal with it later when he was more conscious and had less of a pounding headache, he went back to sleep. When the snooze alarm went off, he turned it off and slid out of the bed as quietly as possible so as not to wake her up. He popped a couple of ibuprofen to start working on the headache, and then hopped in the shower.

He was just about done shaving and heard Clarke’s alarm go off at a disturbingly loud volume. It took her a good thirty seconds to find it, apparently, and he would be surprised if their neighbors didn’t wake up with it too. With a quick glance to make sure he didn’t miss any spots shaving, Bellamy finished dressing and exited the bathroom. The shock of seeing perfectly put together Clarke with wild blonde curls going every which way and yesterday’s makeup smeared was enough to make him stumble and nearly trip over his shoes.

“Uh, bathroom’s all yours,” he choked out, clearing his throat.

Clarke mumbled something that he couldn’t catch.

“Sorry, what was that?”

“What time is it?” Clarke asked louder.

“Oh, it’s five past seven.”

“Ugh, thanks,” she hauled herself out of the bed and grabbed some clothes before stepping into the bathroom.

Bellamy heard the shower turn on and finished getting ready himself, spraying a little cologne on and making sure he had everything he would need for the day’s events in his laptop bag, including his business cards, and some extras of Clarke’s as he knew she’d likely forget hers or not have enough on hand. Once he was done with that, he scrolled through his inbox on his phone, replying to a couple pressing emails and leaving some for later that were less urgent. Clarke whirled out of the bathroom, bringing steam, perfume, and perfectly coiffed hair at seven thirty-five. She quickly clipped in her earrings and rummaged through her work tote to make sure everything she needed was in it, then stepped into her smart work heels and looked expectantly at Bellamy.

“Well, are you ready for this breakfast?” she asked expectantly, shrugging a blazer on.

He chuckled, “Are you sure you’re ready to go? Got everything you need for today? Like your business cards, perhaps?”

She scrambled in her suitcase for the box of cards and stuffed it into her tote, muttering her thanks.

“Don’t forget your room key either in case we’re done at different times. I don’t want to make you wait for me if one of my sessions goes long,” Bellamy said.

Clarke put her room key into the outside pocket of her wallet and grabbed her phone. “Okay I think I have everything now. Let’s get to schmoozing, shall we?”

Bellamy gestured her out of the door. “After you, Princess.”

~*~*~*~

  
Aside from sitting together during the breakfast opening ceremony, Bellamy and Clarke only had one session together the first day, which was one that Indra had made them sign up for to get ideas for new team bonding exercises they could do back at TonDC with the whole group. This was also the session right before everyone at the conference was cut free for dinner, with the idea of them all returning later in the evening for a social hour. Both Bellamy and Clarke were thankful that during the team bonding exercise session they were not actually asked to do any of the discussed exercises with the other attendees and simply took notes on a very thick handout of a whole variety of exercises and activities.

As they were left to their own devices for dinner, they met up with some faux competitor friends of theirs from other firms for a meal and a round of drinks before the social hour at eight p.m. Clarke excused herself from dinner early to change into something lighter for the social hour, choosing to meet Bellamy and the rest of their friends there.

The social hour went quickly, especially with the open bar likely causing everyone to let loose a little bit more than they had probably originally planned, Clarke and Bellamy included. Finally, as the bar began closing down and attendees started to return to their hotel rooms, Bellamy bid goodnight to Roan and Lexa, noticing Clarke was definitely approaching her limit of being tipsy and getting sloppy.

“Come on, Clarke, let’s get you some water and upstairs, eh?” Bellamy said softly, firmly putting his arm around shoulders to keep her steady as he marched them out of the ballroom.

“Bye Roan and Lexa!” Clarke said overloud, causing Bellamy to sheepishly look back at them as he and Clarke exited.

Clarke leaned into him heavily in the elevator, and even put her arm around his waist. Whether or not she was doing it because she was drunk or just doing it subconsciously Bellamy didn’t know, but he did know she would be a pain in his ass tomorrow if she went to bed drunk. He got her some water and a couple of ibuprofen pills as she changed into her pjs (sans sweatshirt tonight) and made her drink the whole glass before filling her up another one.

He set up the pillow wall again and had just turned off his light when he felt Clarke’s hand flapping around, clearly trying to find him in the dark. Turning over to ask her what her deal was, he was instead rewarded with a smack to the face.

“Ow, that hurt, Clarke.”

“Shit, my bad Bell’my, it’s dark!”

“What is it?”

“I just wanna say thank you for helping me get back here even though I was drunk. I appreciate you even though I may not act like I do all of the time, and you do great work for this company and I like having you on my team,” Clarke said, stumbling over some of her words.

“Thanks, Clarke, I appreciate you too,” Bellamy replied, smiling a little to himself in the darkness.

The creaking of the mattress alerted him to significant movement from Clarke, and he froze when her lips left a sloppy kiss on his forehead.

“You’re great, Bell’my. Just thought I should say tha’. Good night!” Clarke mumbled, returning to her side of the bed and promptly falling asleep.

Bellamy’s heart was thudding in his chest, his mind racing. He lay awake for another hour, finally succumbing to unconsciousness when counting his inhales and exhales in counts of ten made him lose his tether to consciousness.

He awoke first again the next morning, although it wasn’t his alarm that woke him. It was rather that he was excessively warm and he didn’t know why until he saw Clarke’s arms wrapped around his middle. He stayed still after turning off his alarm, choosing to enjoy her embrace rather than move around a lot and potentially wake her up and end this touching moment. He had liked her as more than a friend and coworker for the last six months but hadn’t had the balls to ask her out. Clarke mumbled something in her sleep that sounded something like “Bellamy” but it was too quiet for him to fully make out. She squeezed him a little bit tighter in her sleep, and he felt his heart leap in his chest.

Clarke’s alarm chose to go off then, causing her to jump from the noise and reflexively squeeze Bellamy’s middle. She immediately let go of him and scooted away, back to her side of the bed, blushing furiously even in the early morning darkness.

Bellamy cleared his throat and gruffly said, “Morning.”

“Er, morning,” Clarke whispered. “Do you need the shower first? I have my first session at eight today.”

Turning over to face her, Bellamy gestured to the bathroom with his free hand. “Be my guest, I don’t have anything until nine-thirty.”

“Great, thanks, I’m just gonna hop in there now then,” she replied, dashing to the bathroom and closing the door hard.

Bellamy sighed and rested his hands behind his head, stretching out flat on his back, ruminating. A few minutes later he caved and pulled out his phone, starting a new message thread with his best friend, Nathan Miller.

_Bellamy Blake: Nate I need your sage advice_

_Nathan Miller: Pray tell the situation at hand, and perhaps this sage can advise you appropriately._

_Bellamy Blake: It’s about Clarke_

_Bellamy Blake: And this whole hotel room fiasco_

_Nathan Miller:_ Please _tell me you’ve fucked already_

_Nathan Miller: Or at least made a move_

_Nathan Miller: I swear to god, Blake, you are a supreme idiot if you haven’t already_

_Bellamy Blake: I have done none of that, you sicko._

_Bellamy Blake: Indra messed up when booking us rooms for this conference so we’re not only sharing a fucking hotel room, we have to share a single fucking bed. I feel like I’m in a really shitty rom-com and I hate it._

_Nathan Miller: You said it not me_

_Nathan Miller: Clearly something else is going on besides having to share this room and bed with Clarke though. What happened?_

_Bellamy Blake: I put up a pillow wall between us, right?_

_Bellamy Blake: But this morning I woke up to her arms wrapped around me like a fucking monkey but when she woke up she leapt away like I was burning her or something_

_Bellamy Blake: And then she ran to the shower just now like she couldn’t get away from me fast enough_

_Nathan Miller: Dude she’s totally got the hots for you_

_Nathan Miller: I honestly don’t know how far up your asses the both of you have been but it’s been for far too long_

_Nathan Miller: If you don’t make a fucking move on her TONIGHT..._

_Nathan Miller: I_ will _involve Octavia._

_Bellamy Blake: Don’t you fucking dare Miller_

_Bellamy Blake: I will literally come murder you in your sleep if you tell O about this_

_Nathan Miller: Hey it’s your own fucking fault for spending TWO WHOLE NIGHTS being ridiculous_

_Bellamy Blake: Fine, fine, fine_

_Bellamy Blake: ….._

_Bellamy Blake: I’ll let you know what happens_

_Nathan Miller: You fucking better bro_

_Nathan Miller: Ok I gotta go, Monty’s got breakfast ready for me_

_Nathan Miller: And no, of course I won’t tell this to Monty especially since he works with y’all_

_Nathan Miller: Your hopeless attempts at romance are safe with me_

_Bellamy Blake: Thanks Miller, talk to you later_

_Nathan Miller: *peace sign emoji*_

Bellamy locked his phone and sighed, thinking through his options. At the sound of the shower turning off, he made his decision, and he could only hope it wouldn’t royally screw up the rest of their week here. Thankfully he wasn’t able to focus a lot on Clarke during the day, as once he got started with his sessions, he was going non-stop until dinner time, barely even having a chance to eat lunch. He crashed as soon as he got back to the hotel room, barely even toeing off his shoes before passing out on top of the bed.

Clarke’s day was clearly very similar, as when she came into their room after her last session of the day, she found him passed out face down on his pillow, and couldn’t help a small smile flit across her face. She changed out of her professional clothes as quietly as possible, putting on more comfortable pants and a loose shirt. As she lay down on the bed to have a quick snooze herself before dinner, Bellamy mumbled in his sleep and pulled her to his side, firmly caging her with his arm. With her one free arm, she poked him in the forehead several times to try and wake him up.

“Bellamy, please wake up,” she said loudly in his ear.

He cracked an eye open; it widened upon seeing the closeness of Clarke’s face to his own.

“Evening,” she continued, “could you possibly, uh, let me go, please? You’re kind of crushing me a little.”

“What? Oh, sorry,” he apologized and released his hold on her, but instead of moving away, Clarke stayed put. “I didn’t mean to do that, sorry.”

She propped her head up with one arm, and settled the other between them, her hand millimeters from his chest. He looked from her hand to her face, flitting between her eyes and her mouth. His heart was racing, breathing fast, but he looked down at her lips one more time, and he caved.

Bellamy leaned forward, closing his eyes, and lightly kissed Clarke. He pulled away, opening his eyes to see that Clarke’s were still closed, her brows furrowed. _Shit_. Pulling further away and feeling his heart dive into the pit of his stomach, and with fear overtaking him, Bellamy didn’t catch Clarke’s eyes opening and focusing straight on his mouth.

“Do that again,” she whispered.

Her words seemed to echo in his mind; the few seconds it took for him to register them felt like a lifetime to Clarke. She blinked, and then Bellamy was _there_ and they were kissing and it wasn’t anything like she’d imagined, but it was so much better than imagination ever can be.

He pulled Clarke flush against him, kissing her deeply, his heart soaring. His arm was wrapped firmly around her waist, and when she nipped his bottom lip it went right to his crotch, eliciting a groan from him. She smiled into his kiss and slowly trailed her hand along the edge of his slacks, finding a loose part of his shirt to pull free so she could feel the taut muscles of his abdomen. In retaliation Bellamy broke their kiss and moved to her neck, peppering light kisses down until he reached her collarbones and the collar of her shirt.

She whined at his pause, her hand coming up to grip his hair and bring his mouth back to hers. He obliged, using his arm around her waist to leverage her up and roll them over so he was now hovering above her. Clarke wrapped one arm around his neck, curling her fingers in his hair and indicating he wouldn’t crush her by laying down. Bellamy deepened their kiss, all chasteness lost, and lowered himself to be flush with Clarke’s body. She responded by loosely wrapping a leg around his calf and lifting her hips into his. He grunted and pushed her further into the bed with his weight, delighting in all the points of contact.

Breaking the kiss, Bellamy raised his head, breathing heavily.

“Are you, are you sure?” he asked.

“I’ve been sure for three years, Bellamy,” she answered, just as breathless. “Now, if you don’t get rid of that shirt yourself, I’m afraid I might pop a few of the buttons off, but this just looks like it’s an expensive shirt and I’d hate to ruin it for you.”

Bellamy sat up then and hurriedly unbuttoned his dress shirt, getting frustrated when his clumsy fingers caught on a button. He flung it off to the side and leaned back over Clarke, his hands on either side of her head. She bit her lip and unashamedly roved her gaze over his bare chest, her left hand lightly running up and down his side.

“Like what you see, Griffin?”

“I believe I’d like to see more before I can confirm my opinion.”

“That can be arranged.”

His smirk was cut off by Clarke’s hungry kiss, her hands now resting at the base of his stomach, just above his pants. Her touch was like fire to him, and he couldn’t wait to be burned by her. He slipped his hands under the hem of her shirt, feeling the soft flesh of her stomach and how her breath hitched. She sped the process up for him, leaning up and helping pull her own shirt off. Clarke knew she was well endowed in the chest area and had her fair share of past lovers that focused entirely too long on her boobs after they were revealed, but she had faith in Bellamy. He wasn’t one to unevenly divide his attention, and while he spent the next few minutes mostly just ogling her chest, Clarke reminded him of the ultimate goal with a gentle thigh brush against his crotch.

Bellamy returned his attention to her face and leaned back up to kiss her deeply, one hand still cupping her breast. She nudged him in the crotch again, her want rising and her curiosity about him rearing its head. He chastised her with a bruising kiss before his hand moved from her chest down to the edge of her joggers, skimming underneath the waistband with the lightest of touches. Clarke was not one to be outdone though, and she unbuttoned his slacks and firmly palmed him over his boxer briefs. He groaned into her neck, hand gripping her hip.

“Get your pants off, Blake,” Clarke bossed him, squeezing him one more time before releasing him to shimmy out of his slacks and also peel off his socks.

Seeing him standing at the edge of the bed in just his tight black boxer briefs sent a rush of heat straight to Clarke’s core. She wiggled out of her own joggers and blushed at the glance Bellamy sent towards her crotch, knowing how wet the material of her underwear already was. He locked his hungry gaze on hers, and slowly approached her, fingers ghosting paths up her calves to her thighs. Puffs of air from his breathing raised goosebumps on her skin, but he didn’t break eye contact, not even when he skimmed right over her core and up her stomach. Nipping at the fabric of her bra, he came to a stop, even with Clarke’s face, needing to reconfirm.

Clarke kissed him gently, lacing her fingers with his, enjoying the tenderness of this moment. He shifted his body weight though, and the placement of his thigh between her legs (intentionally, she was sure of it) had her fire beginning to burn out of control. She nipped his bottom lip, sucking on it for a few seconds at the same time she ground against his thigh. Bellamy smirked at her and gave her a wink before kissing a trail down her front. Clarke threw her head back and let the sensations of his touch become her focal point. His hands gripped her thighs possessively as he teased featherlight kisses below her navel. More kisses were left on her inner thighs as he gently pushed her legs wider for better access. His mouth so close to her center was getting her all sorts of hot and bothered, and Bellamy knew it. To get him moving, Clarke settled a hand in his hair, gripping it just tight enough for him to get the picture.

With little warning, Bellamy then used his teeth to pull her underwear down, agonizingly slow. Clarke gasped when she felt his exhale on her newly bared skin. She reached underneath her to unhook her bra, to free herself from the confining article of clothing. Bellamy took his sweet time, barely noticing her movement, still peppering kisses all around her inner thighs without actually getting to the part she needed most from him. Finally he left an experimental kiss on her pubic bone, and Clarke audibly sighed in pleasure. He left another kiss and then licked a broad stripe up her folds, moving in to work on her clit.

She truly loved getting eaten out, and when it was being done by someone who clearly knew what they were doing and actively monitored their partner, it was heavenly. Bellamy was doing things with his tongue Clarke had only imagined, and it was causing her to become so undone. He swirled his tongue in swift, tight circles around her clit, one of his hands lightly feeling around her labia, teasing. Then he sucked hard on her clit and put one finger in, and Clarke moaned. He began pumping it in and out, slowly, as his tongue continued to work its magic. Clarke’s hand in his hair got tighter as he added a second finger and sped up the motion. She could feel her orgasm coming on, and she knew that he knew it too. He quickly added a third finger and with a few more licks and sucks on her clit, she was crying out and he helped her ride out the waves of her orgasm.

He continued to lightly lick and kiss her clit until it got too sensitive, and Clarke lifted his head up and away. Bellamy willingly followed her direction, slowly pulling his fingers out of her and licking the taste of her off of his fingers. Clarke found that incredibly sexy and yanked him up to her and kissed him filthily, loving the taste of her on his lips. He kissed her back just as hungrily, slotting himself between her legs to grind against her.

Clarke didn’t break the kiss but skillfully freed him from his boxer briefs, taking his length in her hand. While he was bigger than she was used to, she could feel herself already getting wetter at thinking of having his dick inside of her. She rubbed some precum from the tip and slowly started pumping him, getting a feel for it. Bellamy growled into her mouth and broke the kiss to leave a hickey or two on her chest. Clarke continued to focus on his dick, grinning to herself when she made him groan in a particularly delightful way.

“If you don’t stop that, Griffin, I’m going to have to make you come again before we fuck.”

“You promise?”

“Fuck.”

She smirked and pushed on his chest to make him fall back on the bed so she could straddle him. He closed his eyes reflexively, and Clarke got to work sucking him off. Using her fist to cover everything she couldn't’ fit in her mouth, she started slowly, making sure to swirl her tongue around his tip to really get that sensitive area. His fingers were loose in hair, scratching her scalp pleasantly, as she increased her pace. With a few muttered obscenities and light hip thrusts, he finished in her mouth, which she took like a champ.

“You don’t have to swallow it if you don’t want to, I won’t be offended.”

Nodding, Clarke quickly scrambled off of him and to the bathroom to spit. She ran the water and came back, wiping her mouth.

“Thanks, some dudes can be real jerks about that and sometimes it makes me want to just spit it in their faces, see how they like it.”

Bellamy chuckled at her statement and reached for her. He had her lie down so he could crowd into her space, resting himself at the apex of her thighs. They kissed and ground against each other for a while, heat building up in both of them again. He broke the kiss before they got carried away without thinking things through, though.

“Condom or no condom?”

“Condom, please, thanks for asking.”

“Sure thing, Princess,” Bellamy winked and rummaged around in his suitcase until he found one, quickly unwrapping it and rolling it on.

Clarke’s eyeing of his dick was honestly a huge turn on for Bellamy, and he lunged onto the bed and kissed her fiercely, his hands roaming every inch of her skin he could touch. She responded in kind, her ministrations on his balls nearly driving him mad with desire. Bellamy pushed himself more firmly against her, rubbing himself up and down her slit, coating the condom in her wetness. Clarke’s legs parted wider almost without thought, and he propped himself up on his elbows.

As his dick brushed her entrance, he said, “Let me know if I’m going too fast, okay? I don’t want to hurt you.”

She just nodded and grabbed his ass, so Bellamy started pushing in. The sounds coming out of Clarke’s mouth as he finally pushed all the way in and began to slowly pump in and out were unearthly. She wrapped her legs around his ass, allowing him to get an even better angle, and he had to groan into her neck.

“More, Bell, I need more!” she cried.

Bellamy complied, thrusting harder and fondling her breast and nipple with his free hand, knowing they were sensitive. Clarke’s hands were a flurry of movement up and down his body, and she squeezed him inside with each thrust. Then Bellamy pulled out and had Clarke flip over onto her stomach with a pillow under to better angle her. Bellamy entered her in one swift thrust, and this new angle had Clarke gasping in pleasure, and allowing Bellamy access to her clit. This could definitely be one of her new favorite positions, if she got to keep having sex with Bellamy, she decided.

Clarke’s back started to hurt from the awkward positioning of her spine not too long after though, so they switched positions yet again. This time, Clarke was hanging off the edge of the bed and Bellamy standing, bracing his knees against the side as he was too tall otherwise. As soon as he entered her this time, Clarke wrapped her legs high around his waist and held onto him tightly. Her whimpers soon turned into louder moans, and she didn’t even care if their neighboring hotel rooms heard them, she was in such bliss. Bellamy bottomed out in a few thrusts, causing Clarke’s breath to stutter at the new feeling, but with a nod of reassurance and a smile, he was back to thrusting with force and rhythm.

He leaned down to kiss her roughly and they clacked teeth, too lost in the sensations to care. Bellamy picked up the pace and gripped Clarke’s hips even harder, likely to leave bruises later, as he felt her walls tensing up around him.

“Touch yourself for me, Clarke,” he commanded.

She obeyed instantly, rubbing fast circles on her clit and playing with one of her nipples as he continued to pound into her. His grunts got louder and more obscenity-filled, while Clarke’s moans got higher pitched and less wordy. With a few more thrusts, she cried out and was coming around Bellamy, her legs locking in place around his waist. Bellamy wasn’t one to lag behind, and followed with his own orgasm a couple of thrusts later, his legs shaking with the force of his orgasm and the effort. They stayed like that as they rode out the waves, breaking apart only once their breathing was more normal.

Bellamy quickly discarded the condom and cleaned himself up, offering some tissues to Clarke as well. He collapsed back onto the bed and Clarke curled up into him, slotting into the shape of his body like it was the most natural of things. In a moment of tenderness, he kissed her hair, and laced his fingers with hers over her chest.

“Well, that was...unexpected,” Clarke broke the silence first.

They both laughed at her stating the obvious.

“No kidding,” Bellamy said.

“I’m glad, though, you know?” Clarke mused. “I’ve thought you hated me since we started working together and here I was practically pining after you for the last three years when you actually felt the same way. Fucking unbelievable!”

“I fear we’re living a bad rom-com, because that’s exactly what I thought about you,” Bellamy joked back.

“Well if that’s the case then I think we can close that rom-com door and open up just the romance door, if you know what I mean,” Clarke said, kissing his fingertips.

Bellamy’s heart leaped into his throat. “You really think so?”

She shrugged against him. “I don’t see why not -- we’re not each others’ boss or anything and we can definitely keep work separate from personal life pretty easily. Unless you don’t want that in which case please forget everything I’ve just said and we can say this was a one-time fuck.”

He tilted her chin so she was forced to look at him. “I would love to date you, Clarke Griffin,” he smiled, and she grinned back. “Especially if it means the sex is this great all of the time.”

Clarke rolled her eyes. “Sure, be soppy and then go straight to thinking with your dick again, figures.” She emphasized her point with a rolling of her hips, and his dick twitched back into half-hardness.

Scoffing at her ploy, he replied, “Hey if you wanna date me, you have to date all of me.”

“I know, I just like pushing your buttons,” she stuck her tongue out at him. “It’s been one of my favorite pastimes in the office to see how much I can frustrate you without you breaking.”

“You little weasel! Well, I propose a new game for us to play then, called the secret dating game to see how long it takes everyone at the office to figure it out,” Bellamy suggested, his free hand wandering down towards her core.

“You know, I’m in. Also, the loser of who gets confronted first has to tell your sister and Wells, for a double whammy,” Clarke added.

“It’s a bet. In the meantime…” Bellamy is interrupted by Clarke’s stomach growling loudly. “We should probably get some dinner.”

They laughed and agreed. They got into the shower and if they took a while longer than they should have in there, it was no one’s business but their own. While Clarke was blow-drying her hair and reapplying some light makeup, Bellamy sent a quick text to Miller.

_Bellamy Blake: Fuck you and your righteousness_

_Nathan Miller: FUCK YES YOU HORNY BASTARD YOU DID IT_

_Nathan Miller: Told you you’re in a rom-com but I bet now you’re LOVING it_

_Nathan Miller: Please don’t give me details though, I do not need those images in my head_

_Nathan Miller: But please do tell me y’all are going to go full rom-com and try to hide your deeds when you’re back at the office_

_Nathan Miller: Because like, I don’t have nearly as large of a personal stake in this as Monty does, and I for one, want to see how long it takes for him to figure it out_

_Nathan Miller: Ok fine don’t reply but whatever I FUCKING TOLD YOU, you thick-headed idiot_

As soon as they were dressed and ready for dinner, Bellamy followed Clarke out of the hotel room, giving one last look at the room before closing the door behind him. They had a few more days of this conference, and he had some ideas for evening activities with Clarke that involved minimal clothing and a lot of action.

When they got back to TonDC after the conference, it took Indra less than two weeks to figure it out, and Monty came screaming into Bellamy’s office not three days later. Clarke and Bellamy didn’t care that the bet was so short-lived; they were too wrapped up in each other anyway.

Did the hotel room mixup actually occur because of a computer issue, or did Indra purposefully book them a single room to finally get them together? A twinkle in her eye at the next team bonding exercise where Clarke and Bellamy had their arms around each other as they chatted with coworkers begs for interpretation of the latter, but it’s still up for debate amongst the TonDC employees years later. 


End file.
